Serendipity in Counsel
by The-Darkness-Befalls
Summary: Ginny visits a therapist in secret. Just when she's ready to give up, it starts to work.
1. Chapter 1

This story was written for Jessica in The DG Forum Fic Exchange – Summer 2013. For more details please visit the DG Forum.

* * *

**Part One - January 2001**

On the morning of January 8th, Ginevra Molly Weasley talked her way out of her informal Quidditch practice. It wasn't a requirement to be on the team, but as a general rule if there was training, you came.

Even so, she'd been going to see him every Monday at 9:25 am since early December, and she wasn't willing to change her schedule for unofficial training. She'd already had to switch from Wednesdays since the new training schedule released.

And so, at 9:15 am that morning Ginny slipped on her best sneakers and walked the two blocks from her little flat to the tiny office nestled between a sweet shop and a hairdresser and promptly went inside.

The secretary at the small counter waved her past with a cheery little smile, and Ginny murmured a quiet hello as she passed.

She opened the wooden door slowly, trying to avoid the squeak it usually gave off as the wood creaked against the metal frame.

She _hated_ that sound.

But like always, it still came.

He was sitting at his desk like he always was. His hair was a carefully styled mess of grey, his eyes a muddy brown. For his age, she'd always thought he still managed to pull off attractive.

His name was Scott and he was a muggle.

He was also her therapist.

XxX

As the time drew closer to the end of her session, Scott pulled a sheet of paper. He waited patiently for her to ask, but she did not wait very long anyway.

"What is this?" She gently took the paper from his hands, her eyes glancing over the words.

_Group Therapy_

_Meets weekly on Tuesdays_

_6:30 pm_

"I'd like you to come to group tomorrow, Jenny. I think it's the next logical step in helping you get better."

If she were being honest with herself, it was probably true. It would probably go a great deal to helping.

But there was that bubble in her chest that started to expand at the thought of _group therapy_.

She nodded her assent, though, before her brain could catch up with the rest of her.

XxX

After talking to Scott, she usually baked. It wasn't a nervous habit by any means, and had just started to feel like an extension of therapy. There was something a little bit calming about it.

Of course, she wasn't cooking for anyone else these days. Just herself and her plants, and they weren't picky eaters.

It wasn't enough to keep her calm today, and she felt the panic begin to rise again.

Before long, she was curled up on the floor of her kitchen, head between her legs trying to stop the thick sobs that wracked through her entire body, and the catches her breath made in her throat as it struggled to work.

She wasn't sure how long she stayed there before her sobs faded to silent tears and her breath managed to wrangle itself into something resembling normal behavior.

She was glad that she was managing _not_ to have an attack in front of anyone else. It had been over a year since she lost it in front of her mother, and almost two months since she'd lost it in front of Scott. But Scott was the exception, since it was the nature of the conversation that broke her down and they both knew it was coming.

All of her - limbs, chest, head - felt heavy and exhausted by the time she managed to climb off the floor. She considered sluggishly making her way to her bed and sleeping the rest of the day, but she knew that was the opposite of what she should be doing.

XxX

She ordered her lunch in from the Thai place down by Scott's office and ate it while sitting on the counter of her kitchen.

Today would be her last free night of the week, with regular practices picking up again at six tomorrow morning. She loved Quidditch, truly. It was one of the only things she could ever do without feeling as if there was an absurdly high risk of a panic attack.

She supposed it was the adrenaline, the rush of the wind, the crack of a bat, the eruption of cheer. Or perhaps it was just easier to separate the game from _everything_ else?

She didn't really know, but she was glad for it. She wasn't sure if she could handle another thing that made her feel like she was splitting at the seams.

After she finished her lunch, she had originally intended on visiting her parents and spending the day at the Burrow. But given the way she had broken down into a mess already, the last thing she wanted was to walk into the house she'd grown up in with all of her brothers and spend several hours looking at baby pictures.

She was too _frayed_ today to comfort her mother.

It was selfish, she knew, to not want to visit.

XxX

She talked to her parents over a cup of tea an hour after she'd eaten, and after about ten minutes, it became a little tense on her side-what with her mother asking if she'd "met a nice wizard yet", and "I hear Neville is still single."

It was an accident, really, that she blurted out she was meeting someone tomorrow night after practice. It was true of course, she did have her first group therapy meeting - where she'd potentially meet _lots_ of new people. But her mother wouldn't shut up about it and she'd already been tired before the conversation started.

Her father had caught her weary look and managed to get her mother shuffled into another room so Ginny could leave the house with relative ease, before the mountain of questions about her "mystery beau" and the inevitable box of pictures could come out.

So now, her mother was probably ecstatically calling her brothers to talk about her "new wizard" and she would be stuck with a great big mess.

She closed her eyes and sighed, flipping her way onto her mattress now that she was back in her flat.

_Life_ could wait. She was exhausted.

XxX

Ginny woke up the next morning at ten to six, and went through a flurry of panic trying to get ready before she could head to the pitch for practice. She managed to get out the door at 6:01, and was on the field two minutes later but it was still too late. She'd been put on probation and benched for the next two months.

It wasn't as if she hadn't come to every other practice on time since she'd joined the team at the start of last season. She had. But she'd also known they had a strict late policy. She might have been able to have some wiggle room if she hadn't thought missing the unofficial practice the day before was worth it for her mental health. Not that she'd any intentions on telling _anyone_ that.

Her mental health wasn't exactly doing the greatest now, as she sat in the empty locker room trying to stave off an impending attack.

They couldn't see her like this. She'd be kicked off the team for sure.

XxX

After practice - which she was stuck watching and not participating in - she waved off her fellow teammates and left by herself. The idea of greasy pizza from the little shop in London they liked after a strenuous practice did sound delicious, but she didn't feel like socializing with the boisterous witches.

She knew she was making backwards progress again, and she'd feel embarrassed when she eventually relayed that to Scott, but for the moment she couldn't care less. Between the idea of _group_, being _benched, _and accidentally making her mother excited over the prospect of a _nonexistent_ boyfriend, she felt like sobbing into her pillowcase and then throwing up. Repeatedly.

She ended up getting Chinese takeout at the shop across the street from her flat, and was thankful that she hadn't recognised anyone the entire way there and back. She'd picked out her flat because it was far enough removed from the usual Wizarding flats, but close enough to Diagon Alley that she could walk if she were so inclined. A _long _walk, but a walk nonetheless.

She lived above a bookstore that was far from flourishing, but the rent was modest and the space was plentiful. She ended up sitting on the spiral staircase at the back of the store that led to her flat, eating her Chinese and watching the owner reshelving first editions as she spoke to a regular.

The owner was a woman nearly ten years older than Ginny, and she had been very kind when they'd first met two months ago. She had a wild mane of light blonde hair, and dark blue eyes. She wasn't classically beautiful, but she was pretty enough. Her name was Susan, and she had inherited the store - and Ginny as a tenant - from her grandfather when he'd passed away in November. Ginny hadn't known him well, but she was on her way to becoming friends with his fair-haired grandchild.

Her grandfather had at one time owned the whole block, but eventually sold off most of it to local families as the neighborhood grew - saving only his bookstore and the space he'd given to his son when he married Susan's mother. Susan's parents had died when she was in college, leaving her a fair amount of money and their restaurant.

Susan had to close the restaurant not long after their deaths in order to get her life back on track, and it had been left boarded up ever since. She'd told Ginny that after she'd taken over, when Ginny had enquired about why it was closed.

And like her therapist, Susan was a Muggle.

XxX

If she were honest with herself, Ginny would have to admit that Susan being born without any innate magical skill was probably half the reason she was willing to get to know her. Susan didn't know Ginny from any other person in London, there was no instant recall of "Oh, it's the Weasley girl!", she gave her no "she's famous" attitude, and she was certainly not aware of her past.

The woman was sweet, and she obviously loved books with much of the same deep passion that Hermione held.

The quiet tinkling of the bell above the door pulled Ginny from her thoughts and brought her attention back to the inside of the store.

"Ginny? Are you doing okay?" Susan's voice was soft and quiet, but Ginny could practically hear it reverberating in her ears like she'd yelled it.

"Yeah. Just something with work, not a big deal." Ginny smiled widely at the older woman, trying to put as much happy into it as she could. The look in Susan's eyes told her that she'd seen right through the attempt, but Susan didn't push it.

"Let me know if you need anything. I'll be in the shop until close." Ginny nodded at her and then turned back to her food.

She didn't really want it anymore, but forced herself to finish it anyway.

XxX

By six, Ginny had changed her clothes three times and had very nearly fallen into another panic. She wasn't sure she was ready, she knew she wasn't ready, how could anyone think this was a good idea, she had to stay home - Ginny caught herself in the middle of another near attack and splashed water in her face. She had to leave while she still had the nerve.

She ended up arriving ten minutes before group started, and was thankful when Scott's secretary ushered her into the room he used for group, which was empty. Obviously no one had arrived yet. If they had, Ginny wasn't sure she wouldn't bolt out and forget she ever attempted this.

There were eight chairs sitting in a circle in the room. The black one faced the doorway and had a caduceus stitched into the fabric backing, so she assumed that was Scott's chair. The others were dark reds and blues, but Ginny didn't think that meant anything. She took a seat in the blue chair two left from Scott's, and waited.

The room filled up quickly after she sat down. There were four women and two men, besides Scott. She kept her head down and stayed silent through most of the hour. She would have gone the full hour, but like everyone else in the room, Scott directly asked her a question.

She froze, briefly, but decided to focus on Scott and try to get it over with. Her voice was a little unsteady, but she managed to answer her question.

By the end of the night, she successfully answered three questions in front of the strangers in the room. Nothing had been terribly personal yet, but she knew that was because it was intended to guide her into the group. _They'd_ been asked more personal questions like, "Carmen, what did you do after your breakdown?"

Still, she considered it a success, and left Scott with the promise she'd return for next week's group.

XxX

And the next week, and the week following, she did. She still didn't like it, of course. There were too many people around her, discussing her issues. But she knew Scott thought it would be good for her, and she was determined to make it work.

XxX

On the evening of January 30th, she had to miss group therapy to make an appointment with the team manager to discuss her probation. The meeting left her frustrated over her continued probation, but they were letting her join practice again and that was, at the least, a balm to the issue. She was still benched during games until the second week in March, unfortunately.

It was her fault alone though, so she did not protest much. If she'd not overslept it wouldn't be an issue.

So, it wasn't until the 6th of February that she was able to return to group.

But by then, something had changed.

* * *

**Jessica's Prompt #1**

**Basic premise:** The war is over (how long ago it ended is for you to decide) and no one knows quite what to do now. Many people have been traumatized in different ways, including Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley. What problems do these characters face now, and how do they get through them?

**Must haves: **Draco and Ginny are not friends when the story begins, but through realizing that they each have their own problems, they see a new side to each other and begin to support each other in some way.

**No-no's: **I hate the word "Weaselette" as an insult for Ginny and "'Mione" as a nickname for Hermione.

**Rating range: **Any.

**Bonus points: **This story obviously calls for some solemnity, but if you can throw some humor in, that'd be cool. Also, people sometimes make bad decisions when they are grieving, so a strange side pairing that clearly doesn't work out in the story could be interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two - February 2001**

On the evening of February 6th, Ginny slipped into the group therapy room, heading for her regular chair. Carmen, a beautiful Spanish girl three or four years her senior, was the only other one already seated. She waited silently, looking around.

There was an extra chair in the circle. Ginny stared at it. One of the regular guys walked in and sat down, and Ginny forced herself to look away.

Within a few minutes the room filled up with the rest of the usual group-with one exception.

She knew by the addition of a chair that there was a new member to their group, so it wasn't a surprise. What _had_ been a surprise was his _identity_.

"Drake! Glad to see you could join us again."

xXx

She wasn't sure what to think. She didn't know if he saw her, but she would recognise that face anywhere.

Draco Malfoy was sitting in a red chair two seats away from her.

xXx

Perhaps sensing her sudden uneasiness-or the series of failed discrete looks she kept sending to Malfoy-Scott kept the conversation away from her for most of the group.

But she knew it couldn't last.

And it didn't.

xXx

"Jenny? Would you like to share what's happened with you since last time you came to group?"

All the eyes were on her, she knew, but she refused to look up.

Maybe he wouldn't recognise her then.

"Quiet week. Joined practices again. That's it."

The conversation moved on again, and not long afterward Scott drew the meeting to a close.

Ginny stayed in her seat as the group filed out, only getting up when Scott stood. She walked behind him, intent on hiding herself and leaving last.

She didn't notice Malfoy stop just before the door.

"What are you doing here, Weasley?"

_What was __**she**__ doing here?_

_What was __**SHE **__doing here?!_

"What the fuck do _you _think _you _are doing here? Pretending that you're not Draco bloody Malfoy, prince of stoic prats? Pretending that you didn't make it out of there unscathed? You think you can, can, can..."

She trailed off angrily. She flexed her fingers between straight and fisted, staring at the white tiles of the floor in front of her.

"You think you can come here and _embarrass me_?!" She looked up at him finally, practically screaming the words.

Draco Malfoy was looking at her, but his eyes were so _blank_ that she didn't know what to think. She looked him over then, saw the way his shoulders sat stiffly, still. She saw the way his hands shook, the way his breathing made his chest twitch as if he were sobbing.

And when she moved her hands, she saw the way he flinched.

It wasn't an act, it wasn't. She knew that reaction. How many times had she had such a similar one?

She softened immediately, slowly reaching her hands towards his.

"Hey, Malfoy-"

Another flinch. Why?

"Dah, Draco. It's okay. I'm, I'm sorry." She met his eyes as she spoke softly. It took a moment, her brain trying to remember how Scott calmed her down. And then she was reassuring him, calming him.

Slowly, his breathing settled, his hands stopped shaking. He blinked at her a few times in succession, and his eyes began to look less unfocused, less blank.

"We're. . . We're not friends, Ginny."

She smiled, understanding dancing in her eyes.

"I know. Um, see you next week, yeah?"

And she left.

xXx

When she got home twenty minutes later, her entire body felt tense. She walked through the bookstore as Susan was starting to close and ignored the woman's worried calls to her retreating back. The words didn't make sense to her ears anyway.

She needed to get inside. Inside was safer. She needed safer.

She shakily unlocked her door, and went into her flat. Ginny knew she'd never make it to the bedroom like this, and slumped instead against the door as it slammed shut.

The panic finally took a vicious hold on her, another attack ripping through her body. She eventually fell asleep, still collapsed against the door.

xXx

She woke up before five the next morning, a gnawing hunger in her stomach. With practice in just over an hour, she searched her kitchen but found that she was overdue for grocery shopping. In the end, Ginny got ready for practice and left her flat. There was that nice little diner the next street over that served breakfast all day-her usual Sunday afternoon destination-and if she hurried, she knew she could at least get a hot cup of tea and some bacon.

It was nearly five twenty when her plate of eggs and bacon was sat in front of her. She was about to dig in when she noticed a familiar blond sitting at the counter, talking with the waitress.

"You're here early again, Drake. Trouble sleeping again?"

"You could say that. I'm going to head into work early, try to catch a few extra hours."

Ginny forced herself to stare down at her plate and not watch Malfoy and the waitress-Bridget, she thought her name was-talk with what could only be the natural camaraderie that came with being in the same place together on a regular basis.

She didn't actively listen to their conversation, suddenly feeling incredibly out of place in a diner she came to at least once a week. She ate her breakfast slowly, looking intently at the inadvertent patterns in the table top.

Not long before she was finished, Malfoy had left. Once she finished, Bridget the waitress came to her table.

"Here is your receipt. Have a good morning!" the woman's voice was pleasant and chipper and it took Ginny a moment before she realised just what she had said.

"Receipt? But I haven't paid yet," Ginny said. The woman laughed, a smile on her face.

"That's because Drake paid your bill." She replied.

_Malfoy paid for her breakfast?_

Ginny's chest felt strange, but she chalked it up to stress and finished the last dregs of her tea in silence.

xXx

She didn't let herself think overly much during practice. She did not dwell on the blond haired wizard who paid for her breakfast, the man who'd she'd calmed down after a panic attack. She did not let her mind wander to him at all until she was back in muggle London.

Suddenly, the boy she'd essentially grown up alongside was totally different than she knew. But how well had she really known him after all?

xXx

After that first day, she began seeing him everywhere. He got food from the Chinese takeout place on Thursday. On Saturday, she saw him walking down the street opposite her flat. After practice on Monday afternoon, as she was walking to her appointment, she saw him on the corner with a cup of coffee.

xXx

She didn't talk about that with Scott. It felt too strange to form into words.

Instead she talked about last night's sudden nightmare, where she was back in "the warehouse" and this time no one came for her.

She didn't often talk about what happened when she was eleven. Most of the time, she felt like she was over it. But sometimes, especially after gasping awake in the middle of the night, unable to stop shaking, she knew she wasn't. Not really. Sometimes something just let her play pretend with her mind, so she could focus on _one terrible thing_ at a time.

xXx

When she left her appointment, she went home and baked again. But she couldn't seem to stop and ended up with an empty house full of food she'd never end up eating.

xXx

Tuesday night brought her back to group therapy. She tried desperately not to think about Draco Malfoy sitting in group with her, but there was no way around _knowing _once group started.

She couldn't see how group would help her. She knew she wasn't alone in her pain, alone in her silence. How could talking with strangers make it better?

And, she could admit to herself, she didn't want to share in front of Malfoy.

xXx

For the second week in a row, she did not share much. Malfoy didn't either.

xXx

February continued on. She saw Malfoy outside of group on occasion, but she never approached him. There was an unspoken agreement between them-_you keep my secret, I'll keep yours._

She didn't really think that he had suddenly invaded her neighborhood. He seemed far too comfortable, and so did the people around him. She wondered how many other times she'd seen him out of the corner of her eye and thought it was just another Muggle. Up close, yes, there was no doubt of who he was. But from afar, he could be just another person in a sea of unfamiliar faces.

xXx

March 6th brought another change to her life.

After another fairly quiet (on her part) group therapy meeting, Scott asked both Ginny and Malfoy to stay behind. He ushered them into his office as soon as the rest of the group left and began to speak.

"I had thought for a while it might be beneficial for you two to meet. You've both had to gloss over some details in our sessions because of the _Official Secrets Act_, which does mean that there are issues that I am not able to help you get past. But, given your initial reaction to each other in group, and what vague details on issues you've both been able to give, I infer that you were both involved in many of the same events?"

The two shared a look before turning back to Scott and nodding.

"I want the two of you to try something, in addition to our one on one and group. Would you both be willing to try?"

Ginny felt uneasy, but nodded anyway.

If she knew what he was about to suggest, she wasn't sure she would have.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three - March 2001**

"_The both of you need an outlet, some way to talk about the parts that you can't talk to me about. I do think you could both benefit from this."_

"_But-"_

"_I do really believe it would be good for both of you. Why don't I set it up on a trial basis? If you don't think it's helped at all by the end of April, we can pitch the idea and go back to regular therapy."_

Scott's idea sounded more than a little strange to her. He'd called it partner therapy, where the two of them were supposed to talk to each other while doing things together, and record their thoughts in journals. She'd never heard of partner therapy before, but then again she'd never really looked into therapy before moving out of her childhood home. And had that really been that long ago?

She was determined to try, despite feeling ill at ease, if for no other reason than Malfoy wanted to try it.

Scott had promised the both of them that they would still meet for their one on one appointments, and they were still welcome to group. So she knew that if anything came up that made her incredibly uncomfortable, she had an outlet that hopefully wouldn't have her breaking down or blowing up.

It still made her uneasy, the prospect of therapy with Malfoy. He could go on and tell anyone about her issues without consequence to himself, while she already knew she could never do that to him in return.

She didn't know him, not really.

xXx

It wasn't until after group the next week that they started. Scott had handed them each a thin leather journal and instructed them to write down everything they felt as soon as they left each time they met.

And then he assigned their homework.

"Now, I encourage both of you to meet at least once a week. I've got the weeks charted out for you, and after group every week, I will have a new assignment for you both. This week, I'd like the two of you to enjoy a meal out together."

"You want us to go out to eat together?" she asked, confused.

"A restaurant is a good, neutral place. Choosing the place and the food itself will give you topics to start from. I won't be present, and for this assignment I won't have anything specific I think you should discuss. You need to get comfortable around each other if this-or group-is ever going to make a difference in your mental health."

There were so many possible issues with that, but she couldn't voice any of them. Scott wouldn't understand.

Malfoy might.

"Why don't the two of you choose a night you're both available, and discuss times? I will finish closing up the group therapy room in the meantime."

And with that, Scott left the two of them in his office alone.

Neither one of them spoke for several minutes. The tension in the room was palpable.

But eventually, Ginny chose to speak.

"I'm not exactly... I mean..."

"Saturday night, 8:00? Meet at the diner, and pick from there?" There was a slight lilt to his lips when she looked at him.

"Alright. See you then?"

xXx

The week progressed.

On Saturday afternoon, after a rather hard practice, Ginny was in Diagon Alley. The entire place was covered in shades of green, a not so subtle nod to the holiday.

The holiday she'd managed to completely forget about.

She'd had plans to meet her brothers for a late lunch for nearly two weeks, after the disaster that was Ron's birthday party on the night of the 1st. She still wasn't sure how Harry had ended up making out with Lavender on Ron's bed, and for that matter how Lavender had ended up invited in the first place.

She hadn't spent a lot of time alone in Diagon Alley in the past year, choosing instead to join either of her parents on a shopping trip, or going once or twice with one of her brothers.

She hated seeing all the reminders of their closeted world, which still haunted her nightmares.

She couldn't take in the sharp cut of cheap dark blue women's robes, or the generic Celtic cross clasp of a traveling cloak without remembering Alecto Carrow's idea of punishment.

And she couldn't walk by the apothecary without seeing the glint of the tall perfume vials in the corner of her eye and remembering both Alecto and Bellatrix Black.

But no one knew this, not even Scott-though she intended on telling him eventually. She'd never shared what had happened with anyone. It was still too raw, too real.

And she knew as soon as she stepped through the brick wall that if she didn't find one of her brothers soon, one of those very things might set her off.

So she avoided the apothecary, and kept her eyes down as much as she could without running into someone. She hadn't seen any of her brothers yet, but she figured at least George would be in his shop waiting.

She wasn't expecting the display in the windows of small bookstore across from it. The title of the book screamed at her: _Death Eater Witch Trials._

The pictures in the poster next to the stacks of books were of both Bellatrix and Alecto in Azkaban, like some sign that _she was never getting past it._

Ginny was unable to delay the first gasping for breath of the oncoming panic attack even for a moment. She desperately needed to get away from here, away from the crowd of people doing their shopping.

The first sob came ripping out as she stumbled backwards, frantically trying to hide.

xXx

She hadn't had an attack in public before. She'd always managed to find her way home or to the safety of Scott's office, or even a restaurant toilet.

But here, it hit her with no warning. Here, she had no place close enough to hide away.

She walked into a wizard, who made to pull out his wand. But then he stopped, and stared at her.

She felt like her skin was on fire, the burning shame of a panic attack in public exacerbating everything all the more. She couldn't catch her breath, and harsh sobs came out alongside shuddering gasps.

It was by far the worst panic attack she'd ever had and everyone around her watched as she fell apart.

"_Ginny!_" Charlie's voice rang in her ears, but she couldn't see him. Where was he? Where were her brothers?

The panic built.

She screamed in fear, recoiling when a dark haired witch reached out a hand to try to calm her.

_Bellatrix. _

She knew it was irrational, the woman was dead.

The flash of her brother's red hair would normally have soothed her. But it was too soon.

_She was back in _that_ room with Bellatrix and Alecto, and the knives and the bottles._

"Ginny! Ginny! Calm down! What happened?" her brother asked.

She couldn't breathe.

"Ginny? Ginbug?" George was there too. They weren't supposed to see her like this!

"Back off, Malfoy!" she heard Percy then too. Merlin, were they all witnessing this?

"Oh, shove off Weasley. You're going to make it worse."

Draco Malfoy was there.

"She needs space, Weasley." Malfoy's voice was soft, as he gently nudged Charlie back. Her brother looked affronted.

"She's my sister, Malfoy!"

"Ginny. Ginny, look at me. It's okay. Do you need to get away from here?"

_Yes._

His hands coiled around her arms. He spoke quietly, catching her eyes. He ushered her into the joke shop, never letting go of her arms.

"It's okay. Just try to breathe, just like Scott told you."

He continued to reassure her, his voice drowning out most other noise. She kept her eyes on him, not moving them away to the crowd gathered to watch them just outside the doors.

"What's going on?" she could hear in the background.

It took several minutes. By the time her breathing was under control, most of the crowd had dispersed. She continued to sit in silence for a minute, a conversation happening between her and Draco with looks alone.

"I'm okay," she finally whispered.

"What happened, Ginny?" Charlie was speaking to her, his voice low. She finally looked away from Draco. She opened her mouth to reply, but couldn't find an answer.

"She had a panic attack. I'm guessing that fucking display across the street set her off. Take her home and get her some food," Draco told her brothers. He nodded at her before walking away.

xXx

The six of them ended up eating greasy pizza in her flat as Ginny struggled to talk about what happened.

Explaining her panic attacks to her brothers took far longer and was much harder than she expected. Percy and Bill seemed to understand far sooner than the others, and she suspected they'd both spent some amount of time in therapy themselves. They didn't admit to anything, of course. They weren't exactly a "share all emotion and bake cookies together" kind of family; though her mother would probably love if they were.

Ron was the hardest. It took a great deal of patience and Charlie's support to keep Ron from going after Draco. Maybe it had something to do with Charlie being the closest when Draco had calmed her, but maybe it didn't. Charlie didn't tell.

After a few hours, her brothers began to scatter back to their lives. The silence of her flat after they left was deafening.

xXx

_Why does Draco Malfoy know?_

It had been one of the questions her brothers asked that she refused to answer. He deserved that much.

_Why didn't you tell anyone you were struggling?_

She wasn't sure she wanted to, even if she could have.

xXx

Ginny almost didn't go to meet him. She was mentally and physically exhausted, and the idea of going out again did not sit well with her.

But he was expecting her, and he had done _so_ right by her just a few hours before.

So, she went.

Draco Malfoy was leaning against the red brick of the diner, looking cool and collected, only his eyes giving away his uneasiness.

He didn't say anything for a moment, just watched her.

"I wasn't sure if you were coming," he finally said, looking away.

"Neither was I. It's... been a long day."

"Let's just eat here."

And so they went inside.

xXx

Bridget was the waitress on their section, and she was half afraid the woman would bring up her confused response to Draco paying for her last time they'd been in at the same time.

But she didn't.

She sat in the same booth as last time, the same dark blue seats and fake white marble tabletop. This time, Draco was across from her instead of at the counter. It was weird.

"What exactly are we supposed to talk about? What kind of extras we like on our chips?" Ginny asked, desperately looking for _something_ to talk about.

"I suppose you're one of those uncultured ones who like gravy on them?" He asked.

"I like cheese on them actually, but I'm fairly certain calling people who like gravy on theirs uncultured is unnecessary. Let me guess, you're a purist and prefer just salt?"

"Hardly."

xXx

Their dinner continued in much the same teasing manner, though neither of them ordered chips.

But neither one of them forgot _why_ they were dining together. It was easy to pretend when they could distract each other with food.

"When can I expect your brothers to accost me?"

Ginny snorted into tea. The hot liquid sloshed around her cup, a few drops spilling onto her fingertips.

"Hopefully they won't be. Ron was the only one I was worried about, but Charlie helped calm him."

"So it's just the breaking news of my fragile mental state I should expect in the morning Prophet?" Something about the tone of his voice when he asked made her uneasy again.

"They won't be telling anyone about it," she replied quietly, setting her cup down slowly.

"Your brother hates me, Ginny. And for good reason. Why _wouldn't _he tell?"

"Because there isn't anything for him_ to _tell. I didn't tell my brothers anything!"

The silly mood of before evaporated quickly, the old awkward tension snapping back into place.

_"Why?"_

The word, the question, was only a whisper. And then before she could answer, he was gone.

After a few silent moments, Ginny was joined by Bridget.

"He's never brought a girlfriend in before, you know. I've never seen him with anyone anywhere."

"We're not dating. We're not really even friends."

The waitress shook her head.

"I think you're probably the closest thing to a friend to him. He is comfortable talking with waitresses and staff who are working, but strangers make him uncomfortable."

"I can't picture him uncomfortable talking to anyone. He never cared back in school, and after."

"You went to school with him then, I gather. That's probably part of the difference, then. I asked him about it once and he said "the war changed us all". But you're both young and English-what war could you have possibly been in?"

"That's the thing about it, you know. There is more than one kind of war."

Bridget looked more than a little surprised at her response, but did not comment.

"I have to go." Ginny left enough money on the table to cover both meals twice over and escaped the diner.

xXx

Ginny didn't go straight home. Nothing about the day made any sense to her. Nothing made sense anymore at all.

She wandered around London, aimlessly. Before long, she ended up in a loud Irish pub, nursing a green drink she couldn't remember the name of.

The bitter alcohol drowned out everything else.

xXx

In the morning, she woke up alone in her own bed. She was safe and untouched and unharmed.

But she was angry at herself. Because of the panic attack in Diagon Alley, and the way Draco fled, and the way she got pissed on free drinks from drunk Irishmen.

The shame of yesterday lingered as she got ready for the day, even after the hangover faded. But she did her best to ignore it as long as she could.

It was game day for the first time in two months, and she had Quidditch to play.

xXx

The game was over by early evening, her team winning by only ten points. She took extra time in the showers afterwards, soaking in the hot water and avoiding the excited trilling of her teammates.

The girls, however, were still in the lockers when she poured herself into her change of clothes. It was odd, since their preferred place to hang around after showering was the hallway outside where fanboys could hit on them.

"Something going on?" She asked as the group stared at her.

"Draco Malfoy is outside! We've started a pool on who he's waiting to ask out," one of her fellow Chasers said.

Her stomach dropped.

"He was at the game, you know. Saw him in one of the boxes when I went after that Bludger with the wicked arc," the Seeker piped up.

"I'm not interested," she said quietly, and turned away to face her locker. Her face burned. She quickly gathered her things and headed towards the door.

"Not so fast, Weasley. We will all go out together."

Harangued into a sprawling mess of witches, she filed out of the locker room.

The women flocked to him as soon as they exited, making passes and lewd comments.

But Ginny knew before he spoke exactly who he was waiting for.

She started to walk away.

"Weasley! Wait!"

There was sudden silence in the hallway.

She thought about not replying, about walking away.

"I'll see you Tuesday. We'll talk then."

xXx

The expected panic attack never came.

When she got home, she went directly to bed. Sleep came easily.

At practice the next day, she did not answer the many questions her teammates had. A few of them learned that Malfoy and her were apparently ensnared in a deeply loving embrace in Diagon Alley, and from there rumors spread like wildfire.

That afternoon she talked to Scott about her panic attack while out shopping. She told him about Draco's involvement in calming her down. Then about the conversation with her brothers. Once she started, all the sordid history between her family and Draco's that she could talk about without revealing magic came out in a tangled heap.

A weight lifted.

xXx

When she went home afterwards, she made a large batch of fudge.

On Saturday night, Draco had admitted he'd never had any before.

xXx

Neither one of them were particularly vocal during group. It wasn't unusual.

After group, they both went to Scott's office without being asked.

Ginny didn't bring up the conversation with Bridget, just as she hadn't during her regular appointment. But she did admit how much fun it had been to just talk to someone. It felt strange on her lips and she wasn't even sure why she had said it. Scott simply smiled.

Draco didn't talk about why he'd left. And that hurt, more than she expected.

He'd agreed, though, that it was somewhat nice to talk to her.

The meeting was cut short when Scott got a phone call, but he paused long enough to give them another assignment.

_Make a meal together._

"Come back to my flat and we'll talk times?" she asked him, as Scott waved them out.

xXx

They didn't speak until she unlocked the door and let him inside.

"I'm sorry about leaving on Saturday. It wasn't right to leave you with the check."

"It's okay. Well, it's not okay but... You needed to get away. I understand." And it was true, she did. It still stung, a bit, but she did.

"Did you want to cook tonight?" he asked suddenly.

"Not tonight. We could order in if you wanted to keep me company.

xXx

"Now, Malfoy. Chinese or Thai?"

"What about Indian? There is this great little shop a few streets down."

"Indian? I never would have pictured you as liking Indian food."

"Are you serious right now, Weaselette?"

"I'm being completely serious when I ask you to never call me that again, you great dick," she retorted.

"Great dick, eh?"

She punched his shoulder, but was unable to stop the quirking of her lips.

"Just for that I'm ordering fish and chips with gravy."

"If you order that, I will think up every weasel related name joke in the planet and call you nothing but them."

"I'm fairly certain I could start up a ferret trend, you know."

He glared at her. She grinned widely.

"There is the new italian place over by the tapas restaurant," he told her after a moment.

"Are you going to order or shall I?"

"I'd have you order but we'd probably end up with three servings of fettuccine alfredo and a box of cheap wine."

"Hey!"

xXx

"Before you leave, I have something for you." Ginny went into the kitchen, coming back out with two squares of fudge, one chocolate and one peanut butter.

"What's this?" He asked as she placed them in his hand.

"It's fudge."

There was a faint pink tinge high on his cheekbones suddenly.

"Thank you."

She smiled again, and this time it reached her eyes.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_

This is all that I entered into the fic exchange, but it's totally not done. The story's not over yet!


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